


trust

by anathebookworm



Category: Hidden Agenda (Video Game)
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Character Study, F/M, Finn centric, Mentions of past child abuse, Platonic Relationship, Sort Of, Spoilers, Trust Issues, got slightly more angst-y than I intended, if you didn't finish the game yet, kind of, no reading it if you don't want spoilers, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-01-26 18:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12563312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anathebookworm/pseuds/anathebookworm
Summary: Ever since he was a kid, it's been a game of trust. Not anymore. Not when she's concerned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey, I wrote a thing! is it seriously the first Hidden Agenda fic here? I just couldn't resist. I kind of really liked Finn and he sounds like such a complex character. Sort of character I like to write about, really.
> 
> Anyway. maybe there'll be more chapters here later? I don't know? do you even want more chapters? I had an idea to try a Hidden Agenda/Until Dawn crossover, but nothing set in stone yet. anywaaaaaaaaay.
> 
> if you like this, kudos and comments obviously make me happy. but what would make me even happier is for more people to write in this fandom!

_I have to go alone._

alone

alone

alone

It echoes in his mind, spiraling inside a brain that’s been sober for far too long. It’s as real as the rain falling on his face, dripping from his nose and chin and drenching his clothes.

alone

She’s going alone.

She can’t go alone.

She doesn’t know Adam the way he does, doesn’t understand Adam the way he does. No. He can’t let Adam do anything—it’s just—he can’t. She trusted him, she let him go—

trusted him

trusted him

how long has it been since somebody actually trusted him?

She can’t go alone.

He shakes the rain from his face, rubs his forehead and nose and eyes with the back of his hand. She can’t go alone. Which means he needs to go too. He needs to get inside, finish this mess for good.

five years

five years

adam’s fault

it’s all adam’s fault

He can’t take much more of this. He can’t. Can’t.

He stops thinking—tries to stop thinking, his thoughts have been a jumbled mess since his trial—and just opens the door. Takes a few careful steps. It’s still Adam, he still needs to be careful. With Adam, you never know what’s waiting for you in a small corner. Just turn on the lights, and there’ll be a big boom. Anything can happen. Anything.

But he doesn’t want to think about that right now, he needs to focus for a moment. He needs to focus. Keep his thoughts straight. Mind sharp. Eyes sharper.

He doesn’t need to search her—Adam, too—for too long. No. He can hear them, sharp as a knife, as his mind, as his eyes.

“Simon, you’ve gotten what you wanted! Haven’t you? Haven’t you?”

She’s angry. She’s always angry, always willing to punch someone or hurt something. Not trigger-happy, though. He still remembers how her partner wanted to shoot him when he was arrested—but not her. Not Marney. She isn’t trigger-happy.

“You really don’t know what I want,” Adam shoots back at Marney, his voice cold. Always cold. Too dead.

He frowns, waiting for whatever she’ll answer.

“You want revenge on the people who hurt you,” she finally says. Angry. But calmer than before. Still not sounding like she’s going to shoot. He doesn’t know how that makes him feel. It’s Adam. It’s her. It’s his best friend. It’s the woman who trusted him. But Marney interrupts his thoughts by continuing, “But Johnny? Simon, he was never supposed to go down for this. You know he never deserved this. You know.”

He thinks that Adam says something after that.

we wanted a future, he deserved a future, I deserved a future

you took this future from us

But he doesn’t care.

He’s still hearing her words, echoing again.

alone

johnny doesn’t deserve this

wasn’t supposed to go down for this

do it

DO IT

And so he acts.

He has a gun hidden with him, couldn’t go around happily looking for Adam without a gun. He doesn’t think when he points it to his once upon a time best friend. He doesn’t need to think. He needs to aim.

And he’s damn good at that.

He does take a minute to enjoy the surprised looks both Adam and Marney give him, though. He’s allowed to that. Hasn’t been allowed to do so many things, that he’s going to do whatever he can.

she trusts him

he can be useful

get adam

give him on a silver platter

“Didn’t realize I sent so many invitations to this little party,” Adam finally drawls, looking around without seeing anything. He thinks that now he can understand why everyone always said that Adam had a “dead fish” kind of stare.

“Shut up,” he hisses. His hands don’t shake. He won’t hesitate. Adam betrayed him. Marney trusted him. Adam said he would help, that he would get him out of the death row. Adam lied. Marney trusted him. She let him go. “Shut up! I’ll off you right now if you don’t!”

“Will you? I don’t think so. Not after everything we’ve been through together. No, you wouldn’t. Don’t you remember who was there to listen to poor little Finn crying after Rominski had his fun time? Oh, who was there to just listen while you cried that you’d make them pay, hurt them. Only you never had the guts to do what you should. You couldn’t do it then, and you can’t do it now.”

no

no

he was a kid

of course he’d cry

he still wants to cry

he still wants to hurt people

He does have what it takes to hurt those who deserve to be hurt.

He shoots.

He shoots Adam.

On the shoulder.

Adam falls, groans.

And then

then

then

Adam shoots Marney.

And Marney falls too.

The gun slips from his fingers when his brain shifts its focus. It’s instinct. It has to be. He was never the one to catch people when they fall. But he still lets the gun drop to somehow twist his arms around Marney, make sure her head doesn’t hit the floor. Make sure it doesn’t hurt too much.

blood

there’s blood

just like—

like when he was a kid, and lemay was there to hurt him, hurt everyone

so much blood

he’s not used to it anymore, not after five years

five tears

five

five

It’s autopilot after that. His body remembers what to do, and so he presses his hands on her stomach, trying to stop the bleeding. Keep the pressure, he’d had heard. Keep making pressure and it’ll help.

Around them, he sees Marney’s team of happy cops dragging Adam around, yelling, handcuffing Adam. Taking him away.

Marney keeps looking at him with big eyes, big big big eyes. Her mouth opens and closes. Opens and closes. He tries getting his ear closer to her mouth so he can hear whatever she wants to say, but there’s nothing.

She passes out.

He knows this.

Knows she just passed out. She’ll wake up soon.

But he still panics when they drag him away, grab her and drag her away too.

And everything is blank.

He hears things from the cops around him. But it doesn’t matter, doesn’t actually make sense to his crazy brain.

guy’s crazy

shoot hillary

you mean he caught the real trapper?

and marney

innocent

maybe not

maybe just fucking him

doesn’t matter

doesn’t

It’s all autopilot. He doesn’t mind being dragged around, his body doesn’t even feel it. At least, not until they put him in front of a lot of hungry reporters, bombarding him with questions.

All he says, repeats, is “can I go now, can I go now.”

* * *

 

His brain must be much less muddled and much less on autopilot, because a few days later, when he watches the news again, he smiles.

Smiles.

Judge Vanstone, the man who sent him to die—die a liar, no, he doesn’t want to die a liar—says yet again what thinks of Marney.

“Becky Marney saved my life. She should get a goddamn medal as far as I’m concerned.”

Yes. Yes, she should. He’d like that. She saved his life, too. He doesn’t have to die anymore. Not right now, at least. He likes to think he still has a few years ahead of him.

A future.

Adam was wrong, in the end. He didn’t understand the world at all. He said Marney took their future from them, their only chance of having a future—

But—

She gave him his future back. Proved to everyone he wasn’t a killer.

He used to hear how people around said she made things disappear, but they’re wrong too. She gives things to people.

He trusts her.

 

* * *

 

The cops wait until she’s out of the hospital to officially allow him to go. Free, free again. At least until he does something that will actually put him in jail, though.

jail

not death row

never again

never

But the cops, crazy folks that they are, not only just let him go. They offer him a public “I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t believe most of them _are_ sorry, but she smiles and nods and looks proud.

So he also smiles and nods and tries to look proud.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short, I know, but this kind of wrote itself. Apparently I can’t let go of this game yet and will come here every now and then to post stuff.

“Mr. Finn,” someone greets him while he’s sitting in a bar, staring at the bottle the barman just offered him. Something about being on the TV and being innocent. But when the voice greets, he looks up.

It’s Becky Marney.

“Hello.” He nods, raising his bottle in greeting. She just snorts.

“Once upon a time, I’ve had to deal with the feeling of having sent someone to the death row. Now...now it’s your turn. I know this makes sleeping harder, and it makes all sorts of thoughts run through our minds. So, I...uh, how are you feeling?”

It’s hard to sleep, hard to eat, hard to breathe.

But he’s surprised that she’s bringing this up.

“I can’t wait for them to just kill him and be done with it,” he says, compelled to be honest. She gasps, her eyes going wide. He doesn’t know why she reacts like that, but he feels he needs to elaborate more what he means. “I’m not sure if Miss Graves ever brought this up—”

“Felicity,” she interrupts. He nods, though the way she says the other woman’s name makes him feel...something.

“Yes,” he continues anyway, ignoring whatever feelings are close to the surface. “Yes, I’m not sure if Felicity ever brought this up, but Adam, he...I was fine after we left Las Palmas. I was high, sure. Would probably still be now. But he found me online and kept...I don’t know. He just wanted to talk about all that ancient shit. I didn’t want to think about that again. I didn’t need that in my life again. I was fine. But he dragged me into this. So yes, I am glad he’s going to be put down.”

“Put down? Like some sort of animal?”

“I think you can agree with me that this description does fit Adam.”

Marney sighs, running a hand up and down her forehead. Standing this close to her, he can see the sweat there. He can see the bags under her eyes. The lines around her lips.

Then she does something—

Unexpected.

To say the least.

She touches his shoulder, pretty much squeezes it in what he recognizes as a gesture of comfort. He doesn’t remember when was the last time someone actually tried to comfort him, though.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” she says, her hand lingering on his shoulder. “I...I did mean what I said before—you didn’t deserve any of it. And I’m...I’m sorry that I didn’t get Simon...Adam, whatever, when I should. I’m...I guess that was the whole point of everything, confusing us, but I’m sorry that Simon put you and even Daniella through all of that. I wish...ugh, I wish I could still find a way to punch him in the face. Or be the one to actually shoot him.”

it’s fine

not fine

but it’s fine now

she doesn’t need to feel sorry

“Thanks,” he says after a moment, taking a deep breath. “Like I told you before, it’s always nice to finally get to tell my side of the story.”

“Yeah, about that—if...I don’t know, if you ever need something....I guess that’s my way of trying to fix things. I didn’t believe in you at first. If I...if I did try to listen to you before, most of the shit Simon’s been pulling wouldn’t have happened.”

Finally, when she clears her throat, her hand leaves his shoulder. She pats her hair awkwardly before getting up from the bar table, her beer untouched.

She starts walking, and he starts watching her go, but then she stops. He closes his eyes. And when he opens them again, she staring at his face.

“Do you have a place to sleep?” She asks bluntly, so bluntly that he can only blink and blink and blink. “I mean, you haven’t been sleeping on bench parks, have you?”

He blinks again.

bench parks

sleeping on the streets

He knows he shouldn’t. But where else would he sleep? He doesn’t have a place. He spent five years knowing he’d die. And now that he’s going to live, he doesn’t know what to do. There’s nothing to do. Nowhere to go.

“Maybe,” he tells Marney after seconds tick by. No point in lying to her, he supposes. “Doesn’t really matter.”

She seems conflicted.

She blinks.

Swallows.

Coughs.

Runs her hands over her face.

And then she groans.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this, but get up,” she says with a scowl—like it’s his fault he doesn’t have anywhere to go. “You’ve got a place to sleep tonight. Only for tonight!”

He doesn’t know what to make of her.

But he trusts her.

In the back of his mind, he can still hear the leering from the cops. They think he and Marney are fucking or something. She must’ve heard this. She must. This is only going to give her more trouble.

But if she realizes any of it, her face remains blank as a stone. And he supposes that if she can trust him, he can trust her with this too.

She won’t do anything to him. He knows she won’t. Not like what happened at Las Palmas, when he was at the mercy of everyone. She won’t do this sort of thing to him, even if she knows he trusts her.

He’ll never say it out loud—no one can ever know it—but all of that still scares him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg another
> 
> and yay for until dawn references!

Marney’s house is exactly what he’s expecting.

And at the same time, it’s the opposite of what his mind came up with.

It’s small, very very very small. Painting is ruined—has been for years, if he was going to guess. Wooden furniture creaks and groans whenever Marney touches anything. Light flickers when she turns it on.

But it’s cozy. There are bits and pieces of her everywhere. Trinkets. Photographs. Books. A ticket from the movies. And cases with “confidential” stamps. It’s so...Marney that he feels tempted to laugh.

laughing results in broken nose

blood

no laughing of people

people can hurt you

But Marney doesn’t want to hurt him. He needs to keep reminding himself of that. She wouldn’t have invited him here if she wanted to hurt him. She wouldn’t.

“Don’t look so impressed,” she says, locking the door behind them. Something about the click makes a shiver run through his body.

locked doors

lethal injection

death

death

NO

LIFE

He cuts his screaming match with himself to smirk at Marney. She’s expecting something, and it looks like a smirk might fit the situation.

He must’ve been right, because Marney snorts once again. “Well, I bet it’s still better than all of your previous accommodations.”

His smile wavers, but it doesn’t leave his face. “That you’re right, Detective. Though you don’t need to be one to know that.”

“Touché.” She smiles, gesturing briefly to the red couch in front of a TV. It has been fixed over the years, he can tell by the way the red changes in different places. But it looks comfortable. Much more than any bed he’s ever had. “You can sleep here. And, uh...I’m not sure if it’s something you missed—I know I wouldn’t—but you can watch some TV. I hear they’re reprising the films of that Washington guy.”

“Washington? As in Bob Washington? I used to really love that guy.” He clears his throat after Marney stares at him for five tense, awkward seconds. “Platonically, obviously.”

“Yeah, right.” She scratches the back of her neck, awkward again. “I guess this is it. Unless you’re hungry? Maybe I still have something salvageable in the kitchen.”

He wants to tell her no. He does. But his stomach makes its opinion very clear, and soon Marney returns to his side on the couch with a bunch of crackers and that fitness energy bars.

“Not much,” she says with a shrug, eating her own energy bar.

“Thanks,” he mutters, staring at the crackers in his hands. Maybe crackers have all the answers God has refused to give him.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Marney replies. “Just doing my best to fix what I messed up. And really, doing my best to fix what the justice should’ve done. They offer you official apologies, but refuse to pay indemnity? Thank you for being so fair, system.”

He nods. He doesn’t know what else to do. What else could he do?

“Still, thanks,” he finally says. “It’s been...a while since I’ve had a real reason to thank someone.”

She remains silent after that, just munching on her food. He thinks she’ll keep quiet until she blurts good night or something, but when she opens her mouth, it’s to say:

“Riggs thinks I should take a break. Go on a vacation or something. He said, and I quote, ‘I hear Calgary is beautiful this time of the year, lots of mountains to explore.’”

“And?” He asks, not even sure why she’s telling him this. “Do you want to go ski or whatever?”

“Not really. Not a fan of snow. Not a fan of the stories about Calgary, either.”

“Stories?”

“Oh, right. I suppose you wouldn’t know, since you were in...um, you know. But there’s been some rumors about these mountains. People disappearing. Cops finding severed heads in abandoned mine shafts. Things like that. Riggs obviously doesn’t believe any of it, but I’m not willing to try my luck.”

“Never thought you’d be one to believe in horror stories, Marney,” he says, though he does smile.

“Like I said—not willing to try my luck. If you want to go explore some Canadian mountains, then by all means, be my guest.”

“No, thanks. Just escaped a death sentence. I’m not sure I want to dance with death again. Not for anytime soon.”

This time, Marney’s own smile slips. The playful mood dies.

stupid

don’t think about death

think about life

you’re alive

“Finn, I’m so so—”

“No.” He raises his hands, interrupting her, but looking like he’s surrendering to something. “I understand. I do. And I forgave you and everyone already—if God can forgive, then I can, too.”

he didn’t forgive adam though

liar

abandoned him

never will forgive adam

but he shouldn’t need to forgive anyone

he’s not a good man

never a good man

“I’m glad,” Marney says, breaking him free of his dangerous thoughts. “I guess this is good night now. Tomorrow we’ll...find somewhere for you to stay. Yeah. That’s it.”

He thinks he waits too long to answer, to say something, because Marney turns around and starts leaving.

Before she can disappear behind a door, he says, “Night, Marney.”

He doesn’t see it, but something tells him she’s smiling. And that makes him smile, too.

And so he spends the night watching horror movies, trying to get back to the world that he thought had abandoned him.

 

* * *

 

He stays the next night as well.

And the one after that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, look, another!
> 
> maybe it's just me, but I think part of me always saw Finn as an older, more messed up version of Josh Washington. so. yeah. they might seem similar when i'm writing. hope that's okay bye.
> 
> no, wait. can i just say how excited i am for The Inpatient??? i won't get to play it (damn you, life, i need a vr and i don't have one) but i'll totally watch it and write something soon. because that's how i work.

It’s been five weeks already.

five weeks and he still doesn’t know what he’s doing

why is he still alive

if everything went the way adam wanted, he’d be gone now

Dead.

There would be no more Finn. No eating crackers, watching old horror movies.

no sharing an apartment with marney

he doesn’t like thinking about not living with marney

But now

Now

Adam is on the TV.

Adam’s supposed to die.

less than 24 hours

then there will be no more adam

And there’ll still be Finn.

he doesn’t understand

he hates adam

hates everything adam did

But he doesn’t imagine a life where Adam isn’t there.

It feels

too much—

—always too much.

It suffocates him, makes Marney’s apartment look much too small.

not enough space to breathe

not enough space

not enough

not

He can’t think.

It’s too much. Too much, too little, too soon, not soon enough.

is there a way for him to go to calgary like marney was supposed to

would a mountain help him disappear

or at least stop his confusing thoughts

He grabs the hem of his shirt—Marney brought it, brought him a whole new wardrobe he still isn’t used to—and tugs. Tugs, tugs, tugs.

Yanks at it.

Yanks, yanks, yanks.

Until the shirt is no more, like him, like Adam, like everyone.

whatever is left of shirt is spread all over the carpet, like pieces of a human body

dismembered shirt

His head spins. Spins, spins.

He’s starting to run his nails all over his arms and chest—blood, it reminds him he still has blood flowing in his body—when the door creaks and opens and Marney enters the room.

Stares at him for three, four, five seconds. Drops everything she has in her arms on the floor and runs to him.

It’s autopilot.

“Finn,” she breathes, begs. Pulls his fingers away from his reddening skin. “Hey, it’s me. It’s Marney. Becky. Finn, are you hearing me? Hey. Hey, come back. Please, come back to me. Hey.”

come back

back to her

back

but where was he?

“Hi,” he says after a moment, closes his eyes as tightly as possible. He can’t look at the TV again, or everything will come back. He can’t look at her, or everything will hurt. “Hi.”

“Finn,” she repeats, still clutching his hands with hers. “Oh my God, what was that? What happened? Are you—”

“No. I don’t know.” He refuses to open his eyes, but also refuses to lie. “I don’t know. Please, turn off the TV. Please?”

All the white noise surrounding the room is gone in a second.

“Done,” she says. “Open your eyes, okay? Come on, no one here but me.”

“Adam is always here,” he says, tapping his forehead with his hand and hers. She still didn’t let go of him. “He’ll never leave me alone.”

“Adam will be gone tomorrow,” she says, and there’s so much hatred, resentment in her voice. It makes him open his eyes, and there’s red fury in hers. “He won’t hurt anyone ever again. Not you. Not me. Not anyone.”

he looks away from her eyes

“He’ll never leave me.”

Instead of answering, she remains silent.

and he needs to look at her again

She’s staring at him, reading him. Trying to.

Her eyes roam, move. She scans his scars. The new marks he just caused, too.

And then, gently

always gently

she’s never not gentle

Gently, her fingers touch his chest. The marks, old and new. It’s a butterfly touch, barely there, barely contact.

but the butterfly’s wings still make his heart go faster, beat faster

he’s scared

so scared

he’s vulnerable

he hates being vulnerable

being vulnerable means being hurt, whatever way possible

No.

No, Marney wouldn’t hurt him.

everyone would hurt him, wants to hurt him

Not her. Not her. He trusts her. She’s different. He trusts—

She

She

Marney

she kisses his chest.

It’s scary.

A different sort of scary he doesn’t think he’s ever felt.

Every muscle

Every muscle is rigid, tense

He’s ready to bolt, to get up and run and disappear.

she still doesn’t hurt him

Her lips are cold, but that’s it. She gives him another kiss, this time between his shoulder blades. And then her lips are gone.

he’s scared, so scared

but he misses her lips

he wants to have contact with them again

“I won’t hurt you,” she promises quietly. She does, doesn’t she? He’s not making it up. He can’t be making that up. He can’t. “And I won’t let Adam Jones ever get anywhere near you again, got it? You’re safe.”

He doesn’t know why, but he believes her.

she’s strong

she protects herself, her friends and she protects him too

she protects everyone

he trusts her

With everything inside and outside him shaking, Finn manages to move himself close enough to return her kisses with one of his own. It’s faster than hers, but he hopes she understands it when he kisses the inside of her wrist.

It’s his own promise.

He trusts her.

trusts her with his life

trusts her not to hurt him like others before her did

he just

he trusts her.

“It’ll be okay tomorrow,” she says, or he says, he doesn’t know. It doesn’t matter.

After minutes, hours, days, Marney makes herself comfortable on the couch, careful not to touch him too much.

she understands his fears

he’s so glad

“Are you still into trashy horror films?” She asks. Days, months, years later.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Her fingers brush against his for a quick second. “Because I feel like watching one of them tonight. I sure hope we can find one!”

Together, they find and watch another of these Bob Washington films.

he pays much more attention to marney than to the scenes this time

she’s fascinating

she makes him feel good things

He needs to find a name for the good feelings.

For now, though, he’s happy to look at Marney and feel safe. That’s a good feeling.

* * *

When he wakes up, next morning, Finn isn’t sure how him and Marney managed to hug each other while they slept. But he still feels safe.

safe enough to give her another kiss, to pull her closer to him.


End file.
